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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22965121">Blister</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxyEgg/pseuds/FoxyEgg'>FoxyEgg</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cast Away (2000)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Dehydration, Depression, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Isolation, Minor Injuries, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Separation Anxiety, Serious Injuries, Starvation, Suicide Attempt, Survival, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tags May Change</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:22:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>856</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22965121</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxyEgg/pseuds/FoxyEgg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck's anger has boiled and festered, leaving a red and angry blister in it's place.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chuck Noland/Wilson, No Romantic Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Blister</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>There's hardly any gen works for Cast Away, so I took it into my grubby hands to create one. This is purely self indulgent.</p><p>I had an idea, what if Chuck's anxiousness of the first time he tried to get off the island really got to him, making him too terrified to attempt to escape once again. It's been years since.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Chucks eyes met the smile of Wilson.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know, that's why I didn't go," Chuck sniped back as he was repairing his fishing spear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hadn't made it fancier than when he first got here, still just a stick sharpened into a sharp point.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I want to go home," Wilson's voice cut through the warm air.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"This is our home now, you know what happened when I tried to go to the search zone", Chuck gravely said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know." That effectively finished the conversation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chuck huffed, going back to his spear.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>"Bring me back a trout," Wilson asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You know I can't. This is an ocean, trout are in freshwater."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I want something other then small tuna and crab, that's all we ever have."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And it's all you'll get if you don't stop nagging. I'll try to find berries."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilson nodded. "You should have saved some from our last harvest."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"They grow back now shut up and stop. You're sounding crazy," Chuck said back as he got up, swiping at his bare butt to get the sand off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're the one who's talking to a volleyball," Wilson hissed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Fuck you," Chuck growled back, stomping away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"How about you get us home? Huh!?", Wilson yelled as Chuck got deeper into the thin trees and bushes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Blah, blah, blah," Chuck grumbled as he readjusted his makeshift satchel.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He picked up some fallen coconuts on his way to the other side of the island. Usually he would just go from their camp to the water, but Chuck really didn't want to be around Wilson right now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fishing was pretty straightforward, you just aim a bit above your target because of reflection and you got your fish on a spear ready to cook.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He just kind of sat there for a while before he swear he heard Wilson's stomach grumble.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The meal was silent, the only noise came from Wilson when he saw the cut up coconut with a quiet, "thanks." Chewing was still a chore, with the scar tissue that stuck out in Chuck's mouth like a skin tag.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"James Spalding," Chuck laughed to himself, shaking his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chuck tossed his left over fish skeleton onto his ever growing pile of bones. Lolling his head onto his shoulders, he looked at the sky.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"How long has it been?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilson looked over, "seven years give or take."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I want to go home too, Wilson."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I want to die but I want to live."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The talking was no longer comforting, it was now unbearable because of that confession. Rolling over in their cave, Chuck closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he willed himself to not cry, he's seven years past that phase. Crying won't help him sleep, it'll just be a nuance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Surviving hinges on sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He slept only a few hours before the waves awakened him like usual. He was exhausted, but then again, he's always. It was a fight to get up, but he eventually did, carrying Wilson in the nook of his arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Chuck apologized.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's fine, I know you don't like being alone."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. It's the sand good for you today?", Chuck asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes, it'll do. How do you think Kelly's doing?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chuck paused his chopping of coconuts. "She's probably fine by now. Maybe married?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Obviously not to you," Wilson observed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well yeah," Chuck hissed. "What are you trying to get at?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't you want to see her again?" Wilson's smile seemed to gleam.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Of course. But she's too far away to say hello." Chuck resumed his chopping.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"She thinks you're dead as well. How do you think she felt?", Wilson's grin turned animalistic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sad, depressed? I don't know! At least she isn't stuck on a fucking island with a smart mouth vollyball!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know part of you is jealous of her."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Leave me alone, go away," Chuck grumbled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You know I'm not real, that I'm just a personification of your inner thoughts," Wilson reminded Chuck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Stop, I have a headache I know, you and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>both </span>
  </em>
  <span>want to go home, but it's just not possible," Chuck sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Then what's the point in all of the struggle?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chuck looked at the sand, setting down the ice skate next to the coconut. "I don't know. Maybe instinct? I'm hoping that I'll be able to hold Kelly, just once."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was silent until Chuck got the coconut open, lazily drinking the coconut milk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't spill, that's a waste," Wilson reminded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, thanks," Chuck put the coconut back, throwing the coconut at a large rock until it split in two. "Here." Chuck handed half to Wilson.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Aren't you going to eat?", Wilson asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Not now, I don't want to," Chuck answered, getting up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Make sure to eat today, even if you don't want to," Wilson shouted after Chuck, who continued walking into the cold waters.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His scar from the coral was aching, reminding him how dangerous these waters were. He wasn't going out far, he told himself, only to a rock to sit. Chuck needed to clear his head. Thinking about Kelly tended to do that to him.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let me know if you liked this part! Any ideas you have I would gladly take!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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